Bygone Burden
by penelopea
Summary: Wirt is back from the Unknown, but he left something precious behind... and, with Sara, maybe he can bring it back.
1. Chapter 1

"Greg?"

He was gone, he was lost-

"Greg? Where are you? Greg?"  
He couldn't see anything, feel anything, only the cold, the branches pulling him back. He was-

He was in his room.

Wirt stared up at the ceiling for a moment before retrieving his covers from the floor where they had fallen, subjecting him to the drafty coldness of his room. Huddled under the covers, he glanced over at his little, blue radio. 5:38. He could go back to sleep.

He closed his eyes and lay there, awake, until the sudden sound of the alarm pulled him from the bed.

As he rifled through his drawers for a sweater, prepared for the cold spell that was to set in today, he came across it. The hat, still stained with dirt, dark red and balled up in the furthest corner. With it, he remembered his dream, his nightmare, from last night.

He had no fear of The Beast, not anymore. Wirt knew he had uncovered The Beast's incredible, almost pitiable, weakness. The screams of the shadowed creature, the glowing of its eyes. It was all too real to be doubted. The Beast was gone.

Then why had he come back alone?

The boy shook his head, pulling his woolen socks onto his feet and standing. He hated moments like these, moments when the memories took him away from this world, took him back to the guilt and fear of the end of the journey through those woods. He slid out of his room, wood floor slippery underneath his socks, and walked to the kitchen to fix a quick breakfast before catching the bus. The silence of the morning pressed in on him like a vise, forbidding forgetfulness.

There was nothing he could do.

Greg was gone.

Drowned in the river, killed by The Beast, gone.

Gone so that Wirt could be here.

He grabbed some toast, picked up his pack, and walked down to the bus stop.

School had been different ever since the accident. Students who he barely knew were kinder to him, teachers gentler with him, as if afraid he would break at the slightest raised voice, the simplest questions.

Yet, somehow, it seemed as though there were a wall around him.

He understood. People didn't know what to say, didn't know how to act, around the quiet kid whose cute little brother had gone missing, somehow gone so quickly when he survived with only a few broken ribs and bruises.

"Wirt!"

"Hey, Sara."

* * *

It was another cold day. Sara shivered, zipping her jacket up to her chin, and burying her frigid hands in her pockets. She was close enough to school to walk, and usually didn't mind, but on days like this…

But, hey, at least it made the prospect of arriving to the warm, early morning class more inviting.

As her hands plunged deeper into her pockets, she felt something- a small, smooth corner. A tape.

She laughed quietly. That's right. She hadn't listened to it yet, that new tape that Wirt had given her. Of course, she didn't have any way to play it, generally relying on computers and CDs like any other classmate.

Wirt was just a weird kid.

She'd always liked him, though.

Poor Wirt.

She had been there, that night. People often asked her about it, what she'd seen. Of course, she had not even arrived in time to see them fall into the water. By the time she had scrambled down the steep slope, only Wirt was there, collapsed on the edge of the riverbank.

She, like everyone else, assumed Greg would be found someday, further down the river…

The site of the brick building, surrounded by chattering students, distracted her from delving to deeply into the dark thoughts surrounding that night, and she raced towards the open doors. She was early- the busses, always arriving ahead of schedule, had already pulled up and released their hordes of students.

Peering over the colorful hats of bundled up high schoolers, she saw him. He was walking alone- he claimed to know nobody on his bus route- hunched over from the weight of his bag.

"Wirt!"

He looked up to her, a quick smile plastered on his face. "Hey, Sara."

She weaved her way through the crowd until she reached his side. He looked down, tired. As though he'd had a bad day, though it was only 7:45 in the morning.

"You have… history class now, right? I'll go with you- I actually need to ask Ms. DeWitt about an assignment she gave me. The homework from that class is ridiculous…"

On days like this, she would often fill their silence with her words, however shallow or boring they seemed. It seemed as though Wirt appreciated the mindless distraction, and Sara was confident she would be able to tell if her presence irked him.

Her fingers touched the tape resting in her pocket.

She wondered, in the back of her mind, how stupid it would be to mention it, to bring back memories from the night she had found it in her pocket, and never had a chance to ask him about it. Her curiosity got the better of her.

"By the way… I found a tape in my pocket. Jenny told me it was from you." Wirt froze. She plowed on, "But I don't have a tape player…"

Her turned to her with an exaggeratedly horror-struck expression on his face. "Oh, uh, yeah, that." A hesitation, and a sheepish smile, "I was wondering if I could have that back, actually."

She grinned. "What's on it?"  
"It's…" He paused again, failing to find a way to avoid her question, "of course you don't have a tape player. I have one at home. But, maybe we can just… work up to this tape. Listen to it a little bit later."

"Sure."

Whatever was on it, Sara was positive Wirt's horrified embarrassment was an overreaction. Still. He obviously wasn't ready for her to hear it yet.

The idea of what must be on it made her smile. She couldn't help but feel a bit regretful handing back to him, watching him hastily stow it away in his backpack's side pocket.

"Sorry, I just, it was dumb- I'll talk to you later." They had reached the classroom door, and a wave of kids was ushering him inside.

"Wait, Wirt!" Something about the way he carried himself today, something about his tired eyes, made her ask, "Can I come over after school today? Somehow soccer practice hasn't been cancelled, though it's, like, 2 degrees outside. Hanging out in your room sounds a lot more appealing."

He seemed surprised. "Yeah, sure."

"I'll meet you after school!"

"Okay."

* * *

Author's Note!

Hey guys! Yeah, I'm going to try writing a story. Like an actual, longer than one page story. Crazy stuff! Not sure how it's going to turn out, I've never attempted something like it. I'll see where it takes me!  
I couldn't decide whether to go from just Wirt's POV, just Sara's, or to switch. If you have suggestions for that, I'd be totally open to hearing what you'd like to see for the rest of the tale.


	2. Chapter 2

The first time she entered his room, it was decidedly awkward. Having not expected the visit, Wirt had failed to realize until Sara entered what state his room was in- old teacups on every shelf, papers covering all surfaces, some worn clothes scattered on the floor, Surreptitiously, he kicked a pair of boxers under his bed as she entered. He looked up as Sara grinned. Well. She had totally seen that.

"So… yeah. This is it."

"Cool."

She was making the rounds, reading the papers pasted to his walls, smiling at the old train set he still kept set out on his table.

It was weird, having someone else in here.

Of course, he had been to other's homes before, seen other's rooms, but practically never invited others to his own.

He enjoyed it more than he expected.

And, thankfully, she continued to invite herself over. At first, there would always be some sort of excuse- She wanted to study with someone for the upcoming test, she had questions from that day's English readings, she wanted to spend some time away from her moms for a while- but, eventually, Sara's presence became an unannounced at unquestioned part of his life. Wirt had the distinct impression that she was, in a way, looking out for him. He wanted to mind, to be annoyed by the idea that he would need someone like that, but he couldn't me. There was no denying it.

He sighed, staring up at the splotched paint on his ceiling, dimly lit by the slowly rising sun.

After all this, he still liked her.

It was almost enough to make him happy. To make him forget. But he never would.  
Times like these, it came flashing back to him. That last night in the Woods. Wirt had woken up, cold, embraced by leaves and vines that constricted around his arms, his legs, his neck and chest. And Greg was gone.

He could tell his brother had not simply wandered off that time.

He ran for him, called for him. Slipped through the ice. By the time Beatrice's family had saved him, by the time he reached the glade which held The Woodsman and The Beast, it had been too late.

For, in the center, he saw only a sapling. Beatrice was calling his name. Then, darkness, as the lantern went out.

Next thing he knew, he was crawling out of the river, and later awoke in the hospital to the tear stained face of his mother. He asked where Greg was.

His brother, she told him, was gone.

But the vines, the vines, when he awoke that night in the forest, they had been taking him, swallowing him into the tree. They had wanted him, not his brother.

He knew. It was his fault, all his fault. He hadn't been a good leader. Nothing like little, naïve, infinitely hopeful Greg.

The little sapling in the snow.

But The Beast was gone.

Wirt sat up, turning to stare out his window. He knew what he had to do.

He had to go back.

He would bring Greg home.

Switching on his bedside light, Wirt jumped out of his bed, before the most important, the most obvious, question occurred to him. He froze.

He knew, of course, to climb over the wall. But what next?

No, it didn't matter. He would figure it out. He would… he would just have to do the same thing.

He laughed quietly to himself as he changed into his clothes. This was ridiculous. Stupid. As if he could find the way back simply by showing up there.

But he had to try.

As he opened his closet door, searching for a coat, he saw it. The cape, the old, vintage cape from the attic, a single, autumn leaf still stuck to the shoulder. For some reason, he put it on, and, before walking out the door turned back with a sigh and grabbed his hat. It just… felt right, like a uniform.

He stood in his room for a moment, suddenly tempted to drop this harebrained scheme, to take off this dumb outfit and crawl back in bed.

But Greg was waiting for him.

He buttoned up the collar of his cape.

"Back to the Unknown…"


	3. Chapter 3

It was one of those days when it seemed that the sun never came up. The clouds were thick and grey, completely covering the sky.

Sara shivered, wishing she had worn something warmer over her old leather jacket. It had not been the day to skimp out on that large, puffy marshmallow coat she had received last winter. She pulled her hat further over her ears, and marched on to the cemetery.

Though it was one of the busier days of the week, a Saturday, it was early, and people tended to stay indoors when the weather was so dreary. That was the way she liked it- when she visited, she wanted to be alone.

Which is why she didn't call out to Wirt when she spied him walking resolutely up the main path.

She stopped for a moment, staring. He was wearing that outfit, that costume, from Halloween night. The one with the dorky hat and old cape. The one he had worn last time he came here…

That's when she realized; it had been a month since that night.

He had been wearing that during the last time he saw his brother. Maybe it was some sort of mourning thing?

She was going to leave him alone, assuming that he, like her, wanted to be by himself when visiting the graves- though Greg, still desperately assumed missing, did not have one yet- when she saw. He was climbing the tree. The tall one, with far-hanging branches that stretched over the wall.

Oh, no.

Just when she was beginning to think he was doing better.

What was he thinking? That after all this time, after all those searches, the days when the cemetery was brightly lit by police cars and flashlights and full of the sounds of authorities yelling Greg's name, that he, Wirt, would be able to find his step-brother today?

She sighed, dropping her small bouquet next to a random grave. She could get a new one for it's intended recipient later. She couldn't let him wander around alone, especially not on a dismal day like today.

By the time she began to walk along the path, frozen mud crunching loudly under her boots, he had already disappeared behind the tall wall.

"Wirt?"  
Only silence.  
It seemed she would have to go after him. Resigned, she grasped onto the low-hanging branches of the tree, pulling herself up to the top. And there he was, a little ways up the ancient, abandoned train tracks, his back facing her. Not searching, not calling out Greg's name, but just standing there. Waiting.

For what?

It was then that she heard it. The distant whistle of a train. But these tracks were old, going nowhere and leading nowhere, remnants of some past town that had long since been abolished. There was no way…

But there it was.  
Heading towards Wirt.

No, no, no. He wasn't moving.

Shit.

Before she could think, she jumped from the wall, landing hard before running towards the boy. The train, black and menacing, was so close…

And it went barreling by as she sat up in the brown, dead grass, Wirt massaging his shoulder where he fell beside her.

"Sara? What are you… Why are you here?"

Was that really the most pertinent question to ask right now? "I..." Her voice was shaking, the adrenaline rush fading. She had to pause, take a moment, before trying to speak over the sound of the long, loud train still roaring past them, "I saw you, you were just standing there on the tracks, and the you weren't moving-"

His mouth dropped open, forming an "o" shape that she knew would have made her smile in any other situation, and he shook his head vehemently, "Oh, my god, no," his eyes slid to the ground, "no, I was just trying to…"

It was then that it happened, and they both turned. Steam billowed around them as the wheels screeched loudly, forcing Sara to clamp her hands over her ears. The train had stopped, one of its many passenger cars resting in front of them. They both gaped at it with wide eyes.  
"Wirt."

"Yeah?"

"What is going on?"

"Um…" Wirt 's voice was filled with wonder, and, strangely enough, relief. Sara looked over to him. Slowly, he was standing on his feet, staring at the train car's door. "I think… I can just get on the train."

"You can just… get on the train." Okay. Alright. "Why would you get on the train."

Without looking her way, he bent down, picking up his fallen hat from the ground and putting in back over his messy hair with a determined tug. "I'm going to bring my brother back."

With that, without looking her way, he walked up the steps to the door, cape billowing in the wind.

Wirt. He acted like he was so shy, but he really did always have a flair for the dramatic.

Sara watched as he closed the door behind him, and knew what she needed to do. She stood up and grasped the handles, yanking them open hurriedly. Whatever crazy thing he was doing now, she wasn't going to let him go alone.

He turned at the sound of the car's door opening. "Wait, I don't know if you really should-"

With a loud blow of the whistle, the car jolted underneath their feet, cutting of his words as the grabbed to the back of a seat for support.  
The car was nice enough, rows of seats lined with soft, red velvet, large windows revealing the woods passing by in a blur. But, somehow, it was totally foreboding. They were completely alone.

She wondered if this had been such a good idea after all.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note

If you want to read about what's up with the train stuff, and also, you know, general cool stuff about Over the Garden Wall and alternate endings and such, you should totally read this post! post/108895940876/hello-patrick-mchale-i-was-wondering-if-you-could

* * *

That had not gone as he expected.

The arrival of the train had been a huge relief- his plan to simply recreate the events from that night was questionable at best, and simply hopping onto a train was much less… well, deadly.

The arrival of Sara, on the other hand, was a whole different type of unexpected.

Some part of him was glad she was here- the part of him that had feared going back to those dark woods alone, the part that knew he and Sara were finally becoming closer, the part that quailed at the idea of finding and bringing Greg home, alone.

But it could be dangerous over there. He was pretty sure that the Beast had been killed, or destroyed, or something, mere seconds before he woke up on the creek side. But who knew what else was in the woods? He had come across spirits that ate people, angry frog guards… suddenly, the worry that he had cast aside when the journey was his, and his alone, became much more pertinent: what if they couldn't make it back?

"Wirt." Sara had sat down heavily on the front row of benches, staring out the window with wide-eyed wonder, "Where… where are we going?"

"Yeah, about that," he spoke with a nervous speed, all the confidence from before vanished with her presence on this weird journey, "um, it's kind of crazy sounding, so-"

She laughed, "The craziness has already started, apparently, I think I can handle it."

True. "We're, well, going to… get Greg. I left him behind, when I came back l-last time." The rush of guilt at this confession cut his explanation short.

"Last time?"

"Halloween night."

"But, we came right over the wall after you… you two hadn't been… there wasn't enough time for you to go anywhere."

How was he to explain this? He'd be lucky if she didn't leap off the train, never to speak with him again. This was insane. He sighed, sitting down on the seat next to her, staring down at his fidgeting hands.

He'd just have to go for it. Rip off the bandaid, so to speak. "I know, but we did. End up somewhere. It was sort of like a different world, I guess. We were there for a while, but when I came back, barely any time had passed."

"So, what, like some sort of alternate dimension thing?"

"…Yeah."

"Oh. Cool."

Cool. Cool? He had literally just told her that he was taking her to another world, and all she had to say was cool?

"You- what?"

She was staring out the window, expression unreadable, eyes flickering with the passing scenery. "I mean… we're already here, dude. I was kind of prepared for something like that when the train stopped in front of us." She looked to him, suddenly asking, "Why are you wearing your Halloween costume?"

He scoffed, "Really? That's what you- whatever." This line of questioning was easier to answer. "I know it's sort of dumb, but I just kind of… wanted to be wearing the same thing? I don't know. Maybe I thought it would work better if I wore it."

"I mean, this looks pretty cool, but what are you supposed to be, anyways?" She was smiling, eyeing the worn cape.

Wirt could feel himself blushing, and busied himself by taking off his hat, brushing off the dirt that had already accumulated. "I dunno. I guess I was thinking… wizard? Or something?" He had been under the impression that it looked pretty good, actually. Until people started telling him he looked like a gnome. Which was really not what he was going for. He thought it looked striking, the vintage war cape, once worn in some long lost age, billowing behind him as he strode down the sidewalk, the hat…

Alright, he had no idea what he was thinking with the hat.

Besides wizard.

"Oh, nice. I see it, I see it."

He couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not. Either way, he really wanted to steer this conversation away from his fashion decisions.

He reached for something to ask her-and, really, didn't have to reach too far. He had been wondering, ever since she barreled into him, "Sara, what were you even doing there today? How did you know I was going over the wall?"

She shrugged. "You know, visiting someone."

Oh. He immediately regretted asking. "Right, sorry, I- yeah."

Sara nudged him with her shoulder, a motion of hers that was somehow encouraging and heartening whilst causing butterflies to flit about in Wirt's stomach. "Nah, it's fine, don't worry about it. I definitely didn't expect to see anyone there this morning so… yeah, it's kind of weird we were both there."

"I'm glad you were… though…" Wirt's voice trailed off into a mumble as he realized, halfway through the sentence, what he was saying. Just how often could he humiliate himself in a few minutes of conversation?

She only smiled. "Me too. No way could I let you go off into some mysterious wood by yourself. You'll need some of my hardcore, uh, strength and survival abilities out there."

He returned her smile.

Then, for a while, they were quiet, watching the trees rush by, the wood slowly becoming denser, darker, wilder.

This was something he had always admired about Sara- silence with her was never awkward; uncomfortable. He never felt the need to grasp at something to say, that feeling that he had to fill the quiet. He let himself zone out, mind wandering far away.

Which is why he failed to notice when Sara began to slowly slump over, until her head came to rest on his shoulder.

His back stiffened, surprised by the touch, but it did not disturb her. Trying to move as little as possible, Wirt looked over to her. Her hair was falling in to her face, and her eyes were closed. She must have dozed off… they had been at the cemetery early in the morning, and the warm interior of the train, the soft cushions, were dangerously relaxing.

Her head resting on his shoulder, however, was not.

Wirt sat straight as a board, heart racing, afraid to move, afraid of what she would say when she woke up- would she be embarrassed? Should he wake her?

No. No, he didn't need to freak out like this. It was fine. She felt so warm, leaning on him, and he could feel her slow, sleepy breaths. Eventually, his own breaths fell in sync with hers.

He was sure he thought of something poetic to write down before he, too, drifted off into a soft sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Sara sat up with a jolt, her head falling against the back of the seat.

She blinked. She must have fallen asleep. Vaguely, she recalled that moment when she recognized that her eyes were closing, that she was leaning slowly onto what must have been Wirt's shoulder.

She was about to mummer out a quick apology, trying to ignore the strange and heavy ball of embarrassment that had settled suddenly in her stomach, but Wirt spoke first.

Quietly, "This is it." He was standing now- his movement must have awoken her- and staring fixedly out the window. It was as if he had forgotten she was there. His hands were balled into fists, shoulders tense. Nervous.

Sara stood. "What's up?"

He jumped, and looked over to her. "I'm pretty sure we're there. Like, right now."

The woods outside their window looked the same. Green, tall trees. Brush dappled with sunlight. "How can you tell?"

"I just- I just sort of can. I recognize it, I guess. I mean, I've been here before. And I just…" He hesitated for a moment, mouth still open as he searched for words, before settling on, "I feel like we should get out of here, y'know?" His mouth had set in a faint grimace, as if the train ride was causing him pain.

"So do I." She truly did- there was something different now, a mysterious urge to get back outside, to avoid going any further in this roaring machine that suddenly felt claustrophobic and… and troubling, as if leading them to danger. She thought about mentioning this to Wirt. He seemed to already know. "Let's go."

"Yeah, but, the train's not stopping."

"Oh… that's kind of a problem."

"Yeah." He stepped past her, only to pace in a small circle in front of the doorway. "and I don't really know how to contact the conductor, if there even is a conductor, or where to find an emergency stop lever thing, if there even is an emergency stop lever thing-"

He stopped, then looked up at her, shoulders set determinedly. "I think we're just going to have to jump."

They stared at each other for a long moment as his words sunk in for her. Normally, she would try to think of a slightly less life-threatening solution to their little problem. Normally, she would investigate some more, and see if there was a way to actually halt the vehicle before exiting. This wasn't a time for "normally," though. And she really, really wanted to get off.

So, she had no choice but to agree.

"Okay. Okay. If you're positive that there's no other way-"

"-I am pretty positive-"

"Then lets just do it now." Before they had time to think about how insane this was. She stood, taking a deep breath, trying to calm her rapid heartbeat. They would be fine. People did this all the time in movies. Surely that wouldn't be the case if it were too dangerous?

Alright, her reasoning was pretty desperate here. But what else could they do?

Wirt had already opened the door, clutching onto the rail with white knuckles as he leaned out over the stairs. As Sara walked up behind him, looking down at the ground rushing past, she realized how much quicker the train seemed to be moving, whipping dark strands of her hair in front of her eyes, wind roaring in her ears.

Wirt muttered something beside her, his words blown away by the wind.

"WHAT?"  
"I SAID, ON THE COUNT OF THREE."

She nodded. She wasn't sure if she could speak if she tried. Fear had locked its hand around her throat, and wasn't going to let go until they got this over with.

She hoped the ground would be soft.

"ONE…" They tensed, ready to leap. "TWO…" She squeezed his hand once, hard, before letting go. "THREE!"

As if it knew, as if it sensed their resolve, the train seemed to slow at this decisive moment. Or, maybe, time began to move in slow motion, as she let go of the handrail and sprung forward, leaping as far as she could from the roaring machine. She could never be sure what had really happened.

All she knew as they tumbled down the slope was that, if either of them sprained their ankle, they'd both be in big trouble.

They came to a stop in a patch of brambles, small, red blackberries dripping from the spiny stalks.

Stunned, Sara lay there for a moment, waiting for some sort of pain to set it, to learn that she had, in fact, broken every bone in her body. The only thing she noticed was the mild annoyance of the brambles trying to dig through her clothes and pierce her skin. She moved carefully, avoiding the thorns as she pushed herself up to sit, thankful to her thick jacket for protecting her from the sharp spikes.

Wirt had stopped a shirt distance further up the hill, and was stumbling down towards her, seemingly unhurt.

"You okay?" He panted, sounding as breathless as she felt. She nodded, taking his outstretched hand gratefully and pulling herself up from the damp ground. His hand was trembling a little bit (or was it hers?) and she held on a little bit longer than necessary (or did he?)

She quickly looked down at her jacket, wiping off the clumps of mud and grass that stuck to it with the back of her hand, to hide the unwarranted blush that rose to her cheeks. Alright, that was new. She wasn't a blusher, she didn't embarrass easily.

_Sara, there are probably other things you should be worrying about right now._

"So, yeah, here we are. The Unknown." Wirt gestured out to the trees, dark and imposing, towering above them.

They were going to find his kid brother… in there? Of course, this wasn't the first time she had questioned this journey. Even with her acceptance of this mysterious, other world, did Wirt really think they would find Greg again… that he would be alive…?

No, she shouldn't think about it like that. Whatever happened, she could be there for Wirt, at least. Anything was better than him going on his own.

"Nice. Looks cozy."

Wirt laughed, that laugh that had become too rare for the past month, and it made her happier then he could ever know. "Doesn't it?" He paused. "Well. I guess we should get started, then."

And so it begins, huh?

"Alright. What's the plan?"


	6. Chapter 6

The plan.

Alright, a few things had happened. One of those things was that Sara was here, which really hadn't been what he expected at all. So he had never taken that little detail into consideration.

Two, he hadn't expected that he would get here by train and, therefore, would be starting from somewhere different from before.

Three, as much as he wanted to deny it, he had never really had a plan to begin with.

Faced with her question, he realized that he really needed to stop pretending to have a plan when, in all honesty and way deep down, he had always known that he could rarely think of anything.

But he pretended anyways.

"Well, we're going to walk." Okay, he needed to get better at pretending. "I mean, I have been here before. The wood isn't just, like, trees. People… and some other… things- friendly things-" the ominous sounds behind those words surely would do nothing to reassure Sara, "and once we get to the first town or house or whatever, we can just…"

Just what? Ask if they've seen a kid anywhere?

That's when he realized.

"We can find our way to the Woodsman. We'll ask around, and we'll find him. He was there that night. He can help us find Greg, I bet he knows his way around the forest, I mean, he lives in there…"

Of course, the Woodsman. The fact that it hadn't occurred to him to simply find one of the few people he knew in this wood put a dent in whatever confidence in himself he had built up around this insane journey.

Sara seemed to accept this with little hesitation. "Okay, cool. Sounds good." She smiled encouragingly, a kind gesture that made Wirt blush and wince, pleased but discomfited at the same time. Would he have to go through this whole venture with that sickening feeling in the back of his mind that she was just humoring him? The feeling that, whenever he spoke, she was mulling over how tragic his denial of Greg's loss was, how desperate he must be to prove that he, the older brother, the responsible one, didn't lead this little kid to his…

"Well, no point standing around. I'm totally ready to get going. "

Her voice pulled him from his musings, his dangerously dark thoughts that had inspired his return to the Unknown. She had begun walking ahead of him, already dwarfed by the towering pines, the twisting limbs of the oak, the pale aspens whose leaves shivered in the breeze. She looked completely unafraid.

He couldn't help but recognize the beauty of this poetic scene. He smiled before racing up to her side. "Don't go off without me. I know this forest, remember?"

She laughed, "Right, of course. Lead the way, captain."

He grinned. "Actually, they call me the pilgrim here."

So began their journey. They walked for hours, Wirt telling Sara of his previous visit to these woods, the outrageous events that made her laugh, encouraging him on. He skipped the frightening parts, the sinister parts, the parts that haunted him ever since that Halloween night. For today, walking under the light, green shade of the trees, he was able to forget the darkness that lurked in the depth of the forest. Eventually they fell into a comfortable silence, intermittently pointing out the occasional flash of a bird's wing (never, he noted, blue) or a distant deer of fox racing past in the undergrowth.

"Hey," Sara said after a while, her jacket slung over her shoulder, winter hat stuffed in its pocket. "Just wondering. I know I'm new here and all that, and don't know how it all works or whatever. But I have to ask, have you noticed that it's, like… Spring?"

"Yeah. It… I guess the seasons are different here. When I left last month it was… winter had just arrived." It had been so cold. That frozen lake. The bitter wind. It was completely changed now, with bird song in the air, insects droning, the sun casting pleasant warmth on them.

Sara spoke his thoughts before he could.

"Wow. That winter ended quickly."

He nodded. "Yeah…" That was strange. Now that he though about it, it didn't appear as though this was the very beginning of spring. The flowers were already beginning to open their blooms to the sun, the trees already covered with greenery… the change was a welcome one, the heavily padded clothes in his messenger bag rendered useless, the nights much less intimidating. But did this mean that time flowed differently here? That any amount of weeks, months… years… could have passed since he left Greg behind?

Wirt forced himself to choke back the panic that this thought provoked.

"Camping out is going to be a lot nicer than I expected. My family always goes on a camping trip during spring break, always somewhere with nice weather… not gonna lie, I was kind of nervous about sleeping in November weather."

He was about to reply, say some sort of meaningless comment to distract himself from his fears, when she quietly spoke and caused another new concern to press on his mind.

"I hope they won't too much worry about me…"

"No, no, they won't-" alright, he knew that was a stupid thing to say the moment t came out of his mouth, "I mean- ah, they probably will- I mean…" okay, pause for a moment, "they probably will for a while, but you'll be back to them soon. So, it'll be okay. For them."

Yeah, right, good job Wirt. Nice save there.

Though, was there really a reassurance for him to say to her? He had time to plan for this, to realize that he'd disappear without a trace… but she hadn't even meant to come along. For her, there had been no preparation. He had just swept her along like the trade winds at sea, though he had brought her somewhere even further than any sort of distant ocean. He sighed.

"You're right." God, how did she stay so optimistic? Her tone had already lightened, so quickly he wondered if she was simply trying, as he did, to distract from the more fearful thoughts. "They really are worriers, though. It's like I'm stuck at eight years old forever. They still call me their Little Princess." She stopped in front of a particularly large log that stretched so long across their path that they couldn't see the end. "I mean, they literally named me Sara because it means princess. No joke. It's not, like, a name passed down from either of their families or anything. But, seriously. Princess. It's kind of ridiculous."

He laughed, perfectly open to this lighter subject. "Well, you're talking to a kid who changed his name to Wirt. So I'm not really one to judge."

"What, you don't like it? I've always thought your name was kind of cool. Mine's so common, I literally think people are talking to me all the time. Seriously. Being out in public with the name Sara pretty much gives you whiplash every day."

She thought his name was cool? "Yeah. I wanted something different. Who even knows what I was thinking, but apparently I thought it was manly. I mean, it's not that I don't like it or anything." He grinned, vaulting himself over the log, almost bragging when he said, "it means 'worthy', which is pretty cool." And, mainly, why he chose the name. It had seemed so unique, and he liked the idea of bestowing such a title on himself… well, he couldn't pretend he regretted the choice. "Still, at least you don't have to repeat yours about 80 times when ordering a drink at Starbucks or whatever."

Sara chuckled, pushing the branches of the fallen tree aside. He turned to hold out his hand and help her clamber over the log, unable to resist the image of his lending gentlemanly aid to Sara the Princess, as exasperated by the nickname as she may be. Though, of course, his help was hardly necessary. He knew she was way stronger than him, generally more experienced in the areas of hiking, climbing, and if he wanted to be honest with himself, any other physical activity, really- she had told him all about both the ballet and wrestling lessons she took outside of school. She really did look like a princess, though, in the glowing sunlight filtering through the undergrowth.

Well, he could just keep these thoughts to himself.

His spirits were lifted as they walked through the darkening trees.

* * *

Sorry for the lagging update- break ended and I had to remember how to be a student again and manage a work schedule and stuff. Hopefully I'll be able to go back to updating weekly or biweekly from now on! Thanks for sticking with the story through my absence :)


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